The story of Mike
by philadox krix
Summary: A lone Bone Gnawer werewolf on the run from her past. But unknown to her, while on a path of redemption she is being hunted by a very powerful evil. Can she redeeme herself while escaping from the BSD'S?
1. Helpful Definitions

_Ok please forgive me if this seems stupid or annoying but I want to be sure that anyone who happens to read my werewolf stuff or anyone else's for that matter is able to understand what is going on so here is a brief run down of terms you might encounter and what they mean._

**Gaia**- in essence, mother earth. In werewolf world she created us and the werewolves and it's the werewolves' job to protect her.

**Wyrm**- This is corruption in its truest form, it is the absolute essence of evil and badness.

**Alpha-** Head werewolf. They are the leaders, the ones in charge

**Beta- **second in commands

**Sept-** kind of a holy meeting place for werewolves. This is where they commune, have meetings and hold any moots or rites that they need to perform.

**BSD** (black spiral dancer)- theses are werewolves that follow the Wyrm instead of Gaia. They are not nice, they are evil and have been tainted by the Wyrm. Are almost always driving black Mercedes and wear black Armani suits.

**Brujah**- these are one of the many clans of vampires. They are the rebels, they like to do things that are against the norm in what ever particular time period it is (So in our time it might be dog collars, leather, spiky hair, the whole gothic/biker/punk look).

**Pentax**- This is the BIG. BAD, NASTY of the werewolf world. If you are a werewolf and pentax gets a hold on you, kiss you fuzzy little tail good bye. Pentax is the major corporation of the werewolf world that had a hand in every form of production from chemicals to games (Think Wal-mart but bigger and more evil).

**Bone Gnawer**- These are one of the twelve tribes of werewolves. They are the street performers, the homeless, or the poverty stricken. They are also your average runaway. They are at home on the street and can survive very well.

**Glass Walkers**- another of the twelve tribes of the werewolf world. These are the technology oriented wolves. They love to work with anything that has wires in it one it or connected to it.

**Tremere- **These are another of the vampire clans. They are the powerful magicians of their kind and their powers can allow them to float, control the weather, ice, or fire.

**Malkavian- **Another of the vampire clans, these guys are absolutely shit nuts, just really out there. (If you've ever watched the show Buffy, think Drucilla.) when a potential Malkavian is picked they are usually picked either because they are already nuts or because the change will make them go nuts.

**Bastet- **these are were cats. They are the same basic concept except when they change forms they become cats instead of dogs and wolves.

**Red Talons- **Another of the werewolf tribes the red talons are VERY, VERY, VERY anti-humans. They think they are stupid, disgusting, slime of the land and have been known to hunt down humans and kill them (so all in all really not very nice guys).


	2. Rain Rain Rain

A steady rain fell on the eerily gloomy city of Milwaukee.

Thin curtains of hazy mist had chased after the heels of the storm clouds that rolled in silently the night before, shrouding the buildings and streets in a somber grey veil.

The streets shined like liquid silver under the muted yellowish glow of the street lamps and every so often a car would rush by and send the rain waters flying in a shimmering arc

onto the sidewalk to drench any unsuspecting pedestrians that was unlucky enough to be in the way.

Trees hovered over the rain splattered sidewalks that wove up and through a small park that sat comfortably between the stern foundations of the tall dark skyscrapers. Weeping

willows reached down to brush the grass, oak trees rattled softly in the wind and pine trees sat snuggly in beds of fallen needles. In a stretch of open ground sat a large man made

pond where on any given day one could see children and dogs running wild along its now darkened shores and throwing bits of bread onto its surface to watch the birds eat. Now

however there were no children and the lakes dark waters rippled and swirling in the wind and rain of the storm. A gentle hill rose nearby that in the winter time was a favorite spot

for children with sleds but now only gave rest to a single hunched over figure.


	3. mistakes and Penence

A man and woman appeared out of the darkness. They were laughing softly about something as they walked by the shadow covered figure, seemingly unaware of the two dark

amber eyes that followed them. A gust of wind pushed at the branches of a nearby tree, shoving them away and sending a few stray stands of light to fall on the figure. It was a girl,

that much was obvious. Her golden amber eyes held a certain glazed look that was almost impossible to achieve without the help of something that came in a powder or a needle.

Her rain darkened hair was plastered to her neck and curled around her face, dropping silver diamonds of wetness like offerings into the soft pink cup of her ear. An old, torn black

t shirt hung limply on her boney shoulders and the black jeans that she wore looked as though they were older than she was. Around her neck hung a necklace made of wire, pop

tabs and a small medallion that gleamed dully in the watery light. Her clothing was soaked from the rain but she didn't seem to notice the sheets of rain that pounded down on her

frail body, her glazed eyes faded in and out of reality as she focused all her attention at her bare left arm that lay like some broken creature across her knees. On the soft under skin

there were three sets of thin white scars that were faint yet painfully distinct they spelled out a name, **_S A M_**.

In her right hand she gripped a gagged chunk of glass tightly between her thumb and index finger, placing the tip of the razor sharp glass at the start of the **_S_** she pressed down. A

bead of crimson pooled up and was instantly washed away by the rain. Moving slowly the girl pressed down as hard as she dared while carefully following the pre existing scars,

biting her lip she hissed softly as the first flares of pain blossomed in her skin and filled the void in her mind. Crimson ran down her arm in thin red lines but had anyone been

watching they would have found it more than a little bit strange at how quickly the blood seemed to slow and then stop all together. The girl bowed her head as she threw the glass

into the night and cradled her sore arm close to her body.

"Hey did you hear what happened down at that runaway shelter on 5th and Washington last week?" Her sharp ears picked up the sound of the couple that had passed by her not

that long ago as they went into the park.

"No, what happened?" Oh god, no please, no. why was this happening? The heroin in her seemed to sing in her veins as her heart began to race. The couple glanced at her as they

passed, their wickedly bright green eyes flashing in the light, the man sneered cruelly.

"They say that this girl came in who was totally hyped up on something and just went absolutely psycho screaming about werewolves and stuff like that. And when these guys took

her outside to get her to chill out she turned on them with a knife and killed at least three."

"Wow. That really sucks."

Lies, it was all lies. Only she knew the truth of it and she suppressed the anger that she could feel growing behind her ribs, could control it as long as they didn't say that she had…

"The worst part is that then she turned on this little kid that happened to have followed them out. The newspapers were having a field day with the story. I mean they were saying

they haven't seen so much carnage done by one person like that."

The anger snapped inside her like a spring that had been wound to tightly and before she even realized it she was on her feet.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" she screamed at the receding shadows of the couple as they scurried away down the street,

"You don't know what happened, you don't know what really fucking happened so shut the hell up." She spun angrily, screaming as she tore chunks of bark of a nearby tree

leaving four long white gashes in the belly of the wood. She stared mystified by the pale flesh that peered out at her from beneath the black bark. Glancing down her face contorted

with disgust as she saw that her hand had changed into a fur covered claw and she fell back to the ground, shaking and moaning.

"Oh god not again," she whimpered weakly.

"Sam… please…forgive me. Oh god Sam please forgive me. I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to, it was an accident." A high pitched giggle drifted back through the rain as the girl

curled up on the saturated grass and closed her eyes.


	4. The SPIRAL

In every city that can boast a true nightlife there is always a club that is not what it seems. It's a place where the patrons sneer at the very concept of life as if it was a toy to be

played with and then simply thrown away when the interest in it is lost. They are the powerfully dark creatures of the underworld, the children of the darkness that wear the night

around their bodies like the exotic silks and rich furs of the high rolling crowd.

And there is always someone fueling them, providing them with the means to play with the lives that they do. The sleeping partner that watches from the shadows, feeding upon the

carnage and corruption that their creations wreak upon the world.

For Milwaukee that club was The Spiral.

On the outside it looked like just another rundown building made of chipped, faded red brick with a long dead strand of climbing ivy clinging to its side. Its three stories was nothing

huge but gave it more than slightly foreboding look. The large glowing neon sign that spelled out the clubs name bathed the sidewalk and street in front of it in an eerie greenish glow

that often sent people hurrying by with shivers running like ice down their spines.

On the inside it was a whole different story.

Inside its doors the décor was a clash between what could have been a club for aristocrats and gothic punk rockers. When one walked inside they would find on the first floor a

large bar that stood like an island in the middle of the floor. Its dark wood paneling gleamed under the soft glow of the lights that hung from the ceiling. Carved into the fine wood

were strange symbols. One that looked like the beginning of a spiral but then broke off into multiple twists and slashes. Another that looked like the symbol for anarchy but really

you know that wasn't what it stood for at all. Along the walls were plush booths and tables that were draped with thick black velvet and accented with spidery black lace. The floor

was covered with a deep red colored wood that, coupled with the lighting, made it seem that when moving across the floor one was actually walking through a thin layer of blood. A

strip of thick carpet stretched from the entrance and lead towards the stairs to the second floor where the sounds of heavy dance music rolled down the stairs to meet the arriving

guest. About half way between the entrance and the stairs was a large white marble fountain, its stone body gleamed an almost blinding white against the dark surroundings. The

gentle splash of liquid was oddly muted in the large echoing room and should one happen to glance into the fountain as they passed by they would notice that the liquid inside had a

very interesting shade of greenish molten yellow to it that bubbled slightly at the edges. If that same person looked even deeper into the fountain they would notice that a yellow toxic

sign was printed on the bottom of the basin for it was not water that splashed and gurgled so happily in that fountain, it was toxic waste.

Most new comers looking for a new drinking hole never make it past the fountain. But for the few brave souls that decided to venture up the dark staircase, and had the spine to do

it, they couldn't help but wonder what in the hell happened to Kansas. Black lights hidden in the walls flickered on and off in the dark, flashing on to reveal the hidden images of

twisted grotesque creatures with too many limbs and exotically beautiful men and women with over sized canines. At the head of the stairs thin silver chains hang down to form a

curtain that shielded the room from view. Beyond was a punk dream. A few feet away from the door was a long black bar lined with red leather covered stools. Behind the bar

bottles covered the back wall, some of their contents glowing in the black light that illuminated their labels. Over head a rack hung from thick chains where some of the glasses were

kept while not in use. Across the room was a stage that held multiple guitar/bass stands and a shiny midnight blue drum set. Wild eyed musicians wielded their instruments like

swords or clubs as they tore the cords from the vibrating strings and flung them out at the audience. Candelabras hung from the ceiling and stood like burning angels in dark corners

of the room. Two cages hung suspended in the air on either sided of the stage and fog machines hidden at the base of the stage, spewed their wispy clouds out onto the floor among

the dances legs. Along one of the side wall there stood four doors. One was simply marked employees only and lead to the third floor where the offices were kept. A second was a

bathroom but the remaining two were private booths that contained a light, a mirror and black satin chaise. There was also a little shelf with a box of Kleenex and next to the light

switch was a small button. These rooms were designed solely with the clubs high vampire patronage. The button was connected to a prompter so that when a vampire was finished

with a "guest" they could simply press the button and someone would take care of it.

In every city there is a night club that is run by the shadier characters that in habit that area, for Milwaukee it was the BSD's, the black spiral dancers.


	5. Dont deserve a name

The flashing strobe lights of the strip joint flashed cruelly off the highly polished and reflective stage. It cut sharply in her eyes and for a moment she squinted into the light as though

she was confused as to what she was doing up there on that stage. "Yeah shake it baby!" the hungry cat calls from the crowd pulled her back to reality and she stared down into the

hungry sweating faces with a cold detachment that seemed to only make them cheer more. Her head was swimming from the sickening smell of perfume, smoke, sweat and

something else that she couldn't define but made her skin crawl all the same. It was amateur night at **Cat's Meow**, where any girl that was legally of age (or at least looked it) could

hop onto the stage and make some extra money for a night. It was a degrading way to make fifty bucks or so but she didn't care. It would keep her supplied and besides, she

choked back the lump that was forming in her throat as she dropped down to the floor in splits, she deserved it. It was her punishment for what she had done or if she was wrong, if

she hadn't been the one that did it then it was her punishment for not being able to protect an innocent child. "All right" her song was ending and she quickly gathered the clothes

that she had thrown aside as the greasy haired announcer stepped on stage. "Well, I know that got my heart pumping." The crowed roared in response but she didn't care she just

wanted to get out of there and away form the smell. "If you liked what you saw then my lovely assistant Lacy," a long legged girl with long black hair stepped up and smiled

wickedly a large plastic jug held in her hands "then fill this bucket for" he turned his head away from the microphone "what's your name toots?" "Mike." She mumbled softly

"What is it?"

"Mike…sir" he eyed her, trying to tell if she was pulling one over on him but her face was empty of any emotion at all.

"Michelle. Give it up for Michelle everyone." Mike bit her tongue as the crowd roared like a hungry animal, it didn't matter what he said her name was, maybe she didn't even

deserve a name. half an hour later she slipped out the back door of the place, a hundred dollars jammed into her pocket and some new sugar that one of the girls had given her

dancing through her veins. Tears ran down her face and she sobbed openly as she stumbled down the street. Humiliation at what she had done burned deep inside of her and made

her stomach clench. This wasn't how she had been raised, her parents had been good to her and loved her and Sam… she fell to her knees as she stomach heaved and she threw

up into the gutter. She choked, coughing and retching. _Oh please_, she silently begged who ever would listen if anyone was listening, _kill me now. Jesus please just kill me now. _

After a while her stomach stopped heaving and she was able to shakily climb to her feet and woozily stagger down the street towards the park.


	6. Friday night clubbing

Friday night at The Spiral was in full swing. They had opened the doors shortly after dusk and almost immediately bodies had begun streaming in.

Sharply dressed suits sat at the booths talking softly as they sipped their drinks while waitresses in short black cocktail dresses moved swiftly and gracefully among the booths, taking orders and clearing away glasses. Soft classical music drifted out from tiny speakers hidden through out the walls. Cigar smoke twisted upwards like phantom grey snakes from glowing tips as men and women laughed softly at s joke. Upstairs the heavy metal band _ToxicNation_ was screaming into their microphones as men and women dressed in black leather, spikes, chains and boots flooded the dance floor and grouped around the bar. People greeted one another and demanded drinks, forced to have to yell over the pounding music just to be heard. Chaos rained on the dance floor as the crowed grew more and more frenzied by the pounding music. Moving bodies slammed ruthlessly into one another only to be pushed back and forth in the wild sway, at the edge of the floor one boy was thrown backwards into a tall black haired woman wearing a slinky red Chinese dress and carrying a clip board. Her eyes narrowed briefly before she flashed a wicked smile, revealing her incredibly sharp canines. The boy simply looked at calmly for a minute or two then suddenly his eyes grew wide and he yanked his jacket up behind his head like it was a cape.

"I am the Shadow!" he bellowed making her take a step back,

"The Shadow knows and sees all!" he shrieked as turning around, jacket still held up behind his head, he disappeared twisting wildly among the pounding masses. She rolled her bright green eyes "freaking malkavians." She turned sharply away from the dancers and moved with an uncanny grace, which is usually unobtainable when wearing five inch high heeled boots, and walked towards the _employee's only_ door. Behind lay another set of stairs that led to the third floor where all of the papers and records for the club were kept. Desks were strewn throughout the floor with no attention to order, and cabinets lined at least two of the walls, their drawers hanging open unable to be closed with the amount of papers shoveled into them. Behind one of the desks with his feet resting on the expensively, imported wood was a dark haired man in an Armani suit playing with a high tech looking paint ball gun. In front of him a brand new handsome looking computer hummed softly and glowed contentedly, on its screen it displayed an email. "Hey Kali, check it out." She clicked her way over and stood in front of the desk. "I've designed a new type of paint ball. Instead of using paint I've filled the pellets with liquid silver. And when these things hit they explode down and out so almost all of the silver inside should hit the target." Kali smiled

her wicked smile again, her eyes gleaming "That's brilliant Adam." The second BSD blushed slightly as he stashed the gun in one of the desk drawers.

"Do we have any new orders?"

"Not exactly but take a look at this." Kali slipped around the desk and leaned over his shoulder to get a good look at the loosely coded email that was displayed on the screen.

_Attention_

_We may have a lost mutt problem on our hands._

_Please be advised that more information will be sent in the weeks to come. _

_For the time being please keep all eyes open for our poor lost whelp._

_Big reward if found._

_Mr. Vlad w. Dancer_

_p.s. if other dogs are found please detain_

_may be of some use. _

"Been a long time since we've been out on the streets chasing strays." Kali grinned at his remark,

"Yeah, this sounds like fun. I do hope they give us more instructions soon." The two looked at each other and broke out in the high pitched giggles that were so common among their kind. Below them ToxicNation began to pick up the beat even more and the dancers moved faster and more reckless as the pheromones raced and the pulses quickened. Something was going to happen and soon.


	7. A Second search party

Andrew- _walks the web_- Lyon squinted at the glowing computer screen that seemed to be mocking him. The glass walker had been hard at work all night trying to simultaneously

hack into the well known BSD's computer and scanning the web for any news. the shed where the computer was housed had been recently built soley for the glass walkers that

were helping in the search.

"Any luck?" he turned and saw the septs beta Heather walking in.

"Not really. The Spiral has so much junk mail and crap clogging their emails and computers that it's nearly impossible to get anything of value out of it."

"And what about the accident down at the shelter?" He shrugged

"All I know is that who ever it was went to ground very fast and very well. I mean they didn't even have any leads. But that was also two months ago and everyone seems to have

forgotten about it." The brown haired woman shook her head

"Well keep on it, if it was a lost cub I want them found. And if it was HER, then we need to find her as quickly as possible, Ferril is getting very antsy and its very difficult to keep

an eye on him when all he wants to do is to load up some guns and ammo and ride out to find her himself."

Andrew blinked and frowned at his computer "you know he is Alpha and he's a big boy, he can take care of himself." Heather turned grumbling softly to herself and left the shed.

Stepping out the door she blinked in the bright sunlight of the park and moved of towards the ring of trees. Bob waved at her and she nodded as she strolled towards the large gate

keeper and followed him in. "Search going good?" Heather pressed her lips into a thin line

"It's not my place to discuss such things right now." And with that she brushed past him into the Sept. Bleacher like benches were lined up along the tree line and made a kind of

half circle around the long table where the elders and leaders sat. at the moment only Ferril sat at the head table chatting with his toy Rowena the Bastet. He glanced up as she

approached and jumped to his feet

"Any luck?" Heather simply shook her head as she shoot a nasty look at Rowena, gaia she hated cats. Ferril nodded

"Keep me posted ok Heath?" His beta scowled

"Fine but stop calling me Heath."


	8. A new beginning

Time was passing swiftly. The damp and rainy spring was swiftly giving way to the hot and

humid days of summer. Heat shimmered like a vapor over the black road top and scorched the

trees and plants till everything seemed to wilt, droop on their limp stalks and turned a delicate

shade of yellow. Birds chirped tiredly from their nests and even the squirrels seemed to have

given up their tireless romping to simply chill in the cooling branches of the trees. Mike

wandered around the city in a daze feeling the heat forming a kind of film over her eyes and

coating her skin till she felt like she was slowly being wrapped in plastic. She hovered in

shaded doorways clutching a discarded cup that she had found in the gutter.

"Gotta quarter mister?" the words felt sluggish and heavy as they tumbled repeatedly out of

her mouth. People passing by stared at her wasted limbs and ratty hair with disgust.

"No sorry kid, why don't you go home or get a job."

"I aint got no home, think I killed it." But the man had already moved quickly away down the

street. She wanted to die so badly but her body and will just seemed to push her

onwards and she reluctantly moved with them. "Got a quarter ma'am?"

She was dying… Or at least that's how it felt. She remembered curling up in the doorway to

the abandoned bookstore and she remembered closing her eyes. But then it seemed

like her body had finally given up and the lungs and heart agreed to stop moving. Then she

was floating in a wonderful nothingness of space and time. She opened her eyes and saw

a man coming towards her carrying a flaming sword. She reached around to grab her own

knife that was dedicated into her back but found that she had left it behind.

"Interloper."

"Am I dead?"

"Interloper"

"Is Sam here? Please let me talk to her." The man was bearing down on her the great sword

raised high above his head.

"Be gone interloper; come not to this resting place again with your soiled soul." Mike cried out

as the sword slashed down at her in a blinding stroke of light and she threw her arms

in front of her eyes.

"Mike," she looked up. She was sitting on the hill in the park at night. In front of her was Sam.

But it couldn't be Sam because this girl was transparent and had an angry look on

her face that Sam never had.

"Leave me alone Mike,"

"But Sam, I want to redeem myself."

"And so you kill yourself? You call that redemption?" tears leaked out of her sunken eyes as

Mike wrapped her arms around her knees,

"You told me you would protect me. But I'm dead Mike, I'm dead and you're killing yourself."

"I don't know what to do Sam. I don't understand what happened the night that…. I just, I

just want to make it right." Sam's ghostly expression softened and she reached out to

stroke Mike's cheek.

"Are you happy now Mike? Look me in the eyes and tell me, Do you feel cleansed? Do you feel

redeemed?" Mike shook her head

"No."

"Then do something about it. Pay off your guilt with blood, avenge me." Mikes tears ceased

and she looked into her sister's face. Sam was slowly fading away into the darkness and Mikes

opened her eyes to see rough broken grey concrete that had been stained darker by her tears.

Footsteps sounded behind her as a heavy, sickening smell began to plague her senses. She

turned just as a dark shadow fell over her.

"Hey there little riding hood, aren't you afraid a big bad wolf might get you?" The stranger's eyes burned an eerie

green in the street light. Mike felt her own eyes widen as her moon sign gift kicked in and the smell suddenly had

meaning to it. Wyrm, this man reeked with the scent of Wyrm. Her hand shifted into a claw as she staggered to

her feet and losing her balance crashed in to him, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. He laughed in a

strange high pitched voice that suddenly cut off into an unpleasant gurgle as he realized that he had no throat

anymore. He dropped to the ground in a heap feebly clutching at the gaping wound, staring up at her with shock

and anger. Slinging his body across her shoulder Mike ripped up a man hole cover from the street and dropped

the body down the hole where it fell with a faint splash. Looking down at her gore covered hand Mike realized

that for a brief moment she felt clean. Throwing back her head she howled long and hard, something she had

never done before, a howl that was more like a scream. She howled her pain and triumph to the warm night sky

before turning away and staggering off towards the pond to wash up.


End file.
